A Better Place
by MomentarySetback
Summary: She had the sense that something had changed again. Another timeline had been rewritten. And because the remnants of cortexiphan still lingered in her system, those memories had just integrated with hers. She remembered it all, this life that both now was yet wasn't completely hers. / No finale spoilers. Season 5 spoilers if you're behind.


Everything seemed to be in motion around her. Noise roared as everything spun, stretching the boundaries of space and time, yet all she could hear was this maddening whir of white noise. It merged with a sharp tone, like some high frequency, and the very foundation of their world seemed to be ripping at the seams.

All she could focus on was Peter in front of her, his hands clasping hers. She glanced at their hands, fingers interlocked and knuckles turning white under the pressure of gripping one another so hard. And then his hands danced with color, shimmering and reflecting every hue like when she'd discovered he wasn't from quite the same world as her.

"Peter…" Her words fell into the air, soundless. She looked at him, gaze darting over his body as he became wrapped in colors and lights that were quickly fading. "No."

She shook her head. This wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to lose each other.

"Olivia," fell softly from his lips as she felt his grip slip from her hands. She reached for him, but only air ran through her fingers.

"Peter!"

The frequency turned into a blast and white, bright light blinded her vision.

* * *

In the veil between dreams and wake, Olivia took a deep breath and stirred slightly. Her eyes fluttered open and though her heart was still nearly beating out of her chest from her dream, she was filled with an abrupt sense of calm. The room was bathed in soft afternoon light and her sheer green curtains flitted in the breeze from the open window.

A few scattered photos adorned the nightstands and dresser – her, Peter, and Etta. Her eyes drew back to Etta each time, telling herself that her daughter was safe and sound with Peter despite the visions from her 'dream' currently running through her mind.

_Etta blowing a dandelion, the seeds scattering in the wind. Olivia felt herself smiling and looked down at Peter, his head resting on her stomach as they lay stretched out on a blanket at the park. The vision quickly changed, darkened. Peter got up as people fled. The observers began to appear on the field. Screams pierced the air, yet all drew silent as she ran for Etta._

_Etta at twenty-four, with watery eyes as Olivia drew her close for the first time in twenty years._

_Etta, fading fast, placing the bullet that had saved the world the first time in their palms with her blood-stained hands._

Olivia drew in a shaky breath, conflicted. How did she suddenly know about these observers? Or what Etta would look like when she was twenty-four? Or how it felt to sleep in the basement of a building at Harvard, with only a rectangle of tinted light shining through?

Something pulled at her – something from the…dream? Was that really all it was? The visions and feelings were so deeply ingrained in her, more a memory than a dream…

She pushed up, drawn to the light trying to stream through the window, and swept aside the curtain. A typical Saturday on a suburban cul-de-sac continued on outside her house. The woman next-door rushed out to the van parked in her driveway. A young boy circled the street on his bike before pedaling away. It was completely ordinary, and yet it all seemed monumental to her now.

She had the sense that something had changed again. Another timeline had been rewritten. And because the remnants of cortexiphan still lingered in her system, those memories had just integrated with hers. She remembered it all, this life that both now was yet wasn't completely hers. It made sense now.

She heard the front door open and turned, long, rushed steps carrying her down to the foyer quickly where Peter was coming in with Etta.

_Etta._

Olivia watched with a newfound awe as Peter held Etta's shoulder to steady her as she tried to keep her balance while pulling off her shoes. He chuckled when she almost tipped over and then planted both feet down, huffing impatiently.

"Here, kiddo, want some help?" he offered affectionately.

"I want to do it," she insisted with the tenacity of a child much older than four, and even from the doorway down the hall Olivia could hear Peter mumble something about her being just like her mother.

She smiled, touching her hand to her lips as she watched quietly, waiting carefully like this was some dream world that might disappear. Peter simply bent down, letting Etta grab onto him with one hand while she fumbled with her laces, eventually freeing herself of the sneakers. Etta turned then, noticing Olivia at the doorway, and ran for her.

"Momma!"

Olivia couldn't help but stare, frozen, racked with memories of a world where the beautiful little girl in front of her had been torn from their lives and never made it past twenty-four. Etta touched her leg excitedly and tears welled in her eyes.

"We played on the bridge and the swings, _and_ I found five dollars!" Etta grinned up at her, removing a crumpled bill from her pocket that she had clearly spent time diligently smoothing out.

"Wow, five whole dollars?" Olivia ran her fingers through Etta's hair, marveling at her features – her own blonde, Peter's curls.

"I'm going to put it in my jar!" Etta decided before skipping off, disappearing down the hall.

Olivia watched her, still almost in disbelief, and when she turned to Peter he was eyeing her questioningly.

"You okay?" He tilted his head, studying her carefully with a hint of amusement and more than a touch of concern. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

Olivia smiled humorlessly at his choice of words, meeting his eyes with worlds of emotion brewing beneath the surface. "I kind of did."

The tears welled in her eyes again and he stepped close, his palm cupping her cheek, his other hand resting at her hip. She reveled in it all after feeling like she'd lost him, brushing her skin against the warmth of his palm, pressing her lips to the skin there. And then she paused, smiling with glossy eyes.

"We just changed everything again," she explained, and he knew. His furrowed brows smoothed and as she lifted her gaze to him again he waited. "We saved the world," she added, shrugging and smiling disbelievingly. She paused, overcome, and a tear escaped. "And Etta." She quickly wiped it away.

Peter breathed in deeply, unable to imagine what kind of life Olivia must have been dealing with memories of. A life without Etta was inconceivable, empty. Painful to even imagine.

"Liv…" He drew her close to him and she gave herself over to the comfort. She'd been doing that a lot lately, and if anything the memories that had just become a part of her were a constant reminder to continue doing just that – to love and be open, not a conflicted mess of denial and hesitation. She let her arms wrap around his neck and his slipped around her waist and she smiled, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

"I love you so much," she whispered after a moment, feeling him smile against her skin.

"I love you, too."

He pulled back only to rest his forehead against hers, watching the corners of her lips curve upward before he pressed his lips to hers. She smiled into the kiss before his lips melded with hers.

"Tell me everything later?" he asked, touching his nose to hers.

"Promise."

She felt eyes on them and turned, spotting Etta peering at them from around the corner. Once spotted, she smiled mischievously.

Olivia felt her breath catch all over again, but she smiled through it, remembering the version of herself who had let her past invade her present, who had lived wondering if Etta had been taken from them because she'd never really given herself over to becoming a mother, and who had lost her daughter before she ever really knew for sure.

"Are you gonna tell me about this new park, or what?" Olivia teased. She held her hand out, and the invitation was all it took for Etta to run back to them.

"Daddy said the playground was made of all wood, and it looked like a castle," Etta began as she made her way to them. Her hand pressed into Olivia's, but instead of simply taking it, she jumped to wrap her arms around Olivia's neck and be picked up while she was bent down.

Peter intervened protectively in a heartbeat, scooping Etta up into his own arms as Olivia tried to hold on anyway. She laid a hand over Etta's leg, disappointed.

"Hey, hey, kiddo, remember what we talked about?" Peter reminded softly

Etta bit her lip and then nodded. "Go easy on Momma?" she recalled, repeating his words verbatim.

Olivia shot him a look and Peter winced, knowing he was in trouble. "Well at least you remembered the message, just not the part about not telling her…"

"Peter, I can hold my own daughter." She put her hands on her hips, and suddenly he knew he wasn't winning this one.

"Hey, technically she weighs more than you're supposed to lift." He reached out, pressing his hand to the part of her abdomen that was just beginning to round out and smiling so charmingly she almost gave in. But then she laid her hand over his, taking a moment to appreciate the striking difference between this life and the one she'd just gained memories of. They had saved so much…

"Please," Olivia asked, letting her fingers fill the spaces between his. She knew he was utterly unable to say no the moment his eyes softened and she looked at Etta, silently conspiring.

When Olivia reached for her this time, Etta grinned, and Peter reluctantly – and _carefully_ – placed her in Olivia's arms. Etta settled in on Olivia's hip, arms resting on her mother's shoulder.

It was the most natural thing in the world, and yet Peter was completely captivated. He watched as Olivia simply stared at Etta for a moment, and noticed the way she almost had to lift Etta's leg over her growing four-months-pregnant bump.

"Do you feel better?" Etta asked, a sense of concern in her blue eyes that made her seem much older than four.

"Much better now that you're back, Gorgeous." Olivia touched Etta's chin as she pressed her lips to her forehead, taking in the scent of children's shampoo mixed with the outdoors. "Did you and Daddy have fun?" she asked, resting her head against her daughter's.

She felt Peter's eyes on them as she began to head for the comfort of the living room and met his gaze, smiling. He wasn't sure just what had happened or what they had done, but if it made Olivia look at him like _that_ with that adoring, mesmerized smile on her lips, he was pretty sure he owed himself a thank-you.


End file.
